Now We Talk
by yelyahPARAWHORE
Summary: Do you know that little Lady Midnight short called A Long Conversation? It's a pretty little thing that showed us the current happenings on the lives of the TMI gang post the last book and IT WAS AWESOME. Did my best to keep the people who haven't read it yet up to date. I only just added the malec engagement tho sorry :) Centers around when the who did that thing to that person
As far as engagement parties go, Simon knows they aren't this wild. At least his weren't. Of course Magnus Bane's is. As soon as the 'adults'— a term defined by Robert and Maryse Lightwood despite everyone else being beyond teenage years—called it a night with a little help of a certain warlock potion, the once seemingly formal party transformed into a pandemonium-like setting. There were still no strobe of lights replacing the gigantic chandelier. There was no electric music, it's still jazz. The very place itself didn't change one bit. It's the guests. The more they get intoxicated the weirder and wilder they become. Whichever of the two came first.

"Soo if I'm a Shadowhunter and I'm prone to keloids."

"Mhm."

"Of course I reckon I'll get cut a lot. You guys get hurt a lot."

"Mhm."

"Will I become like a dude made up of keloids or do your healing tattoos take care of that problem too?"

"You have a peculiar way of thinking." Simon deadpanned. The werewolf he's talking to is a bit wobbly, but Simon has to admit that his question made him curious as well.

"Dude, I was asking for a friend."

The party was in full swing, it had a lot of Downworlders—mostly because of Alec's reputation as the founding father of the Downworlder-Shadowhunter Alliance and less of Magnus's warlock connections. Alec put up a fight for the last say on the guest list. Nevertheless, they were still a lot. Simon suspected that the majority are gate-crashers. Almost everyone is drunk and losing their inhibitions on the dance floor. There are wobbly conga lines and, thankfully still, not so violent raves. Laughters emit from everywhere; Downworlders and Shadowhunters are seemingly civil with each other despite of Isabelle's earlier comment that it's only a matter of time. And at the center of it all was Clary. She was partying on top of a table along with her posse of werewolves and warlocks.

"Shit, is that Clary?" Isabelle materialized beside him. "By the angel, it is Clary! Why is she being Jace?!"

"The half-empty wine bottle might be the culprit." Simon said. He gestured at Clary's make-shift mic.

"Being pregnant at a party sucks." Isabelle puffed. "All the drunk people kept taunting at you."

Simon winked at her. "Don't even think about it. Just look at the guy jiggling that pot belly." The guy with the pot belly started to strip. "On the second thought, don't."

Both hastily turned to another direction; they were met with the sight of a panicking Alec, fast-walking towards them. He looked like a mess, with his tie askew and his hair sticking out on different directions.

"Have you guys seen my children?!" The two shook their heads. "By the angel, this party's a disaster! Everyone's drunk and dangerously capable of something dangerous!" He ran his hands up on his hair. "I swear if Magnus—"

"In my chosen guests' defense, it _has_ been a while since the last of my parties." They didn't even notice that Magnus is already beside them. "You, on the other hand, seem to have invited half of the Manhattan Downworld population."

"You drugged my parents!" Alec's voice rose. "Is that Clary up on a table?!"

Magnus might've not heard the last statement. "It had to be done, Alexander. Buzzkills get hurt on a party like this." He said with a dismissive wave. Alec was about to have another outburst when Magnus silenced him with a kiss. "Hush, my love. Let's go find the little ones." As they were about to leave, he finally looked up just in time to see Clary smash her bottle onto the floor. It was followed by a delighted chorus of battlecries. "My, Clary really let herself go tonight."

"Okay, that's it." Simon threw up his arms in despair. "I'll go get Jace."

"You go do that. Fast." Isabelle nodded, her gaze transfixed at the new wine bottle that Clary's werewolf friend is getting for her. "I'll help find the kids."

"Responsible sober people, always killing it at a party." Simon muttered.

"That's me." He loosened his tie for the night.

Jace nursed his drink at the party's open bar. There, it's more peaceful compared to the ruckus that's happening at the dancefloor. Every once in a while, drunk people come staggering to ask for more wine. They don't stick around for long.

His solitude was only broken when a wild Simon appeared out of nowhere. "Your girlfriend is grinding with strangers."

"I know." He drawled lazily. "I can see her from here."

"She's on top of a table."

"I've been watching. Don't worry, I don't think they'll push her off."

"So you'll just do nothing and sip Shirley Temples?!" Simon asked incredulously.

Jace rolled his eyes. "I can't drink alcohol. I'm the designated driver."

"But you don't even drive!" Simon harshly pulled up a chair. "Give me that. You don't deserve it."

Jace glared at Simon for the loss of his drink. "Look, give her a break. She's just having fun." He dodged Simon's pointed look. Clary's table crowd started to simultaneously jump up and down to the music. It doesn't look like the table is going to hold them for much longer. "Why don't _you_ try to go get her."

"I already tried. Believe me. Her little groupie chased me off." Simon sipped from the Shirley Temple.

Jace didn't even laugh. It was a bit weird for Simon. Simon and misfortunes are like bread and butter to Jace Herondale.

"Hey, I'm not dumb." Simon sighed. "I know something's wrong."

"She doesn't drink. People who don't drink will drink and let loose when they're stressing out." Simon shrugged. "You drink. Clearly, people in an open-bar who drink but wouldn't are stressing out too."

Jace said nothing. No one said anything for a while.

"Hey, do you know any Shadowhunter Keloid Monsters?"

"You're gross." Jace stood up, taking the Shirley Temple from Simon and downing it.

"I was asking for a friend!" He shouted at Jace's retreating back.

In a distance, a warlock and a Shadowhunter are braving the crowds, looking for something under tables. On the other side of things, a redhead ball of energy is on top of one of them.

"Driiiiink! Drink for the newly engaged wonderful beings!" Clary pushed the bottle of wine to a face beside her.

"Wait! Whose party is this again?!" The face screamed back. Somebody incoherently shouted Alec's and Magnus's names. It caught on and suddenly, everyone's chanting it.

"ALEC! ALEC!" Now everyone's jumping up and down again. "MAGNUS! MAGNUS!" Alec and Magnus are screaming for Max and Raphael instead.

"JACE!" Clary caught sight him.

"Someone's having a lot of fun." He gave Clary a smile that always seem to widen hers.

"ALEC! ALEC! MAGNUS! MAGNUS!"

Someone bumped into Clary. Her Shadowhunter reflexes caught herself from falling.

"Okay, I think that's enough dancing for tonight."

"But Glozell is going to teach me a lot of dance things lateer." She pouts but then grins after a thought crosses her mind. "Piggyback me away!"

"My pleasure." He gave her another one of his smiles.

They just got away from the table when it crashed from the weight of its jumping occupants. She just buried her face against Jace's hair and did not mind the surrounding chaos. Clary loved the carefreeness imposed by apparent intoxication. Drunk people are allowed to be crazy without the usual reprimands. The sound of a closing door to another room has gone unnoticed and now she's being deposited on a couch. In her mind, she will be the drunk person who can get away with any silly thing.

"Now we talk."

"Talk. Words. Flooby gibby gibburish." Clary stretched out.

"You're not drunk, Clary. You've been passing the bottle to your new friend Glozell the whole time." She opened her eyes and leveled her gaze with Jace. The air has adopted a tone of seriousness. "I've been watching."

"Creep." Clary, muttered. Jace pushed a cup of something warm into her hands. Coffee. Black, like her soul.

"You act like a wild drunk so you can do or say anything." He folded his arms. "We can do that sober around here, can't we? So talk."

"I should talk?" Clary suddenly felt flush with rage. She let go of the cup. "I'm sorry, am I the one who gets weird somber mood swings and shut ins?! No! _You_ should talk!" She stood up in her full height.

"Oh I'm Jace. I'm fine most of time but whenever Clary unknowingly hits a button, I'll suddenly stop speaking for the rest of the day!"

"You're being difficult."

"Somehow, Clary is the one being difficult when I flat out refuse to say anything about my issues!"

"Stop."

"In the off chance, maybe she'll figure it out."

"Clary." Jace has closed his eyes in an effort to remain calm.

"Noo, let's make it harder for her." Clary kept taunting him.

"Clary!" His voice rose.

"What, Jace?! Speak! What do you want to say?!"

"YOU HESITATED!"

Two people, one short and one tall, are previously standing off against one another, seemingly with the same height. Now, one has sagged in defeat and the other has faltered in her stance.

"You hesitated." He whispered. "That night before we got interrupted. I asked you the question and you hesitated."

"Jace, I—"

"I kind of had the feeling." He looked around everywhere except for her. "But I still prodded to talk to you alone. You know, after L.A? You said you were too tired. Every damn time suddenly you are too tired. Clary, I was left wondering and fucking confused. Scared even." His last word was hushed.

Her heart hurt with every word.

"But then you'll just shut things up with kisses or stiffle everything with a tight hug and everything is okay." He laughed bitterly. "Except not today when I'm jealous of my brother's engagement party. Mine should've happened months ago."

"I'm that selfish." Jace sat on the low cabinet he has been leaning on, his confession sapped the energy out of him.

Crossing the room, Clary perched on his side. "Then that makes the two of us."

She doesn't know where to begin. She couldn't think of anything worth saying. Not even when a child starts crying inside the cabinet they've been sitting on. Or when Isabelle burst into the room, backtracking after realizing that she's interrupting something. They only stood up to make way for Alec collecting the hiding kids who ate the same drugged cake their grandparents did and went to sleep in the quiet cabinet. They ignored his look and moved to sit on the floor. After the door was closed, Clary took Jace's hand.

"I'm scared of commitment." She traced circles on his palm.

"You know what I have concluded on mom and Valentine's relationship?"

He look down on their hands. "What?"

"Things went south after the marriage."

There was a pause. The he took over drawing circles afterwards. "You could've shared that information sooner."

Clary chuckled. "Yeah but apparently I'm scared of a lot of other things."

"Like what?"

"Your reaction. The presumption of a huge argument that will follow. I just—I just like how things are. I don't want to do anything big that might change it." She sighed. "But I did anyway. For months, I've been living in a denial that everything's still okay."

It was Jace's turn for a longer sigh. "You like how things are."

Clary mutters after another pause. "Yeah."

The tracing of circles stopped. They have intertwined their fingers together in a clasp. One hand engulfed the other, a considerable difference they have. Just like how they have different wants and opinions. Jace wanted to move forward. Clary didn't.

But just like how the two hands still fit each other perfectly despite, they have to make do.

"So. You know any Shadowhunter Keloid Monsters?"


End file.
